I am awake and one thingis clear: I amhaving coffee, watching Godard,writing this, long-hairedkitten purring in my lap,waiting for the early morningritual of brushing-the-teeth,washing-the-face, making the selfpresentable to the otherselfs judging themselfs on themerits of all other selfs.

And such is the valueof the selfless, I suppose:no judgement, no comparison.no ego to upholdand no standard to whichconformity is mandatory.

Such is the lifeof the saint.Such is the aspirationwe respire day in, day out.

she stood starry-eyed on the edge of the starry sky, shimmering reflections of starry dances glistening at her feet in a pool of mirror-mercury. she stood with her back turned to face the moon’s halo–a sure sign of stars falling to earth–and turned her face forward to the ground below. watching from a perch. angled for descent. a starry crown of twelve old lights perched upon a newly crowned queen.